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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493757">the cost of a crown</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQueenInTheNorth/pseuds/TheQueenInTheNorth'>TheQueenInTheNorth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>lou does the kink bingo 2020 [26]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, F/M, allusions to and discussion of forced prostitution, may add tags along the way, some light smutty parts, thg typical themes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 05:41:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,944</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493757</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQueenInTheNorth/pseuds/TheQueenInTheNorth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time they meet, it’s Sinara’s last year in the reaping and Kasius’ first year as an escort.</p><p>Somehow, things get no easier from there.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kasius/Sinara (Marvel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>lou does the kink bingo 2020 [26]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591909</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>MCU Kink Bingo Round 4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>the mcu kink bingo square 'hunger games au' is finally getting me to go through with this project!:)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sinara pulls the belt a little tighter, long used to the clothes always hanging on her body too loosely. The orphanage always gives them the hand me downs with room for them to grow in to. She just hasn’t done anymore growing in a while.</p><p>But they’re short on clothes fit for reaping day so she can’t exactly complain. If anything, it’s the best she’s ever felt on reaping day. Her last year. One more time in that crowd of terrified children and she’ll be free from it forever.</p><p>She exchanges a nod with Darillion across the hall, helping the workers herd along the younger boys while she does the same with the girls. There’s never enough money to pay enough staff so the older kids have to jump in. Or some volunteers from the rich families, as is the case with Darillion. He’s been helping on reaping day for three years now, she thinks, but of course she’s known him before from school. He’d decided to be her friend on the first day and somehow he is a hard person to say no to.</p><p>Things still are strange ever since their trio has been cut down to a duo. The passing time has healed nothing.</p><p>She shakes that thought off and returns her attention to the task at hand.</p><p>“Don’t worry,”she tells one of the children. Jemma, she thinks, but she’s not entirely sure.</p><p>The girl is chewing on her lip so intensely, Sinara’s worried she might actually manage to draw blood. She puts her thumb against the girl’s mouth and eases her lip free.“Twelve year olds rarely get reaped.”</p><p>It’s not much in the way of comfort, she knows that. It’s all she has to offer.</p><p>“That’s because they generally have fewest slips,”the girl returns.“I already have eleven with tesserae. I’m a thousand percent more likely to go than a twelve year old should be.”</p><p>In another district, that might have just been the kid being hyperbolic. In Three, they’re actually taught enough in school that that percentage has its basis in fact.</p><p>It’s a bleak thought, that they at least can calculate their chances of death.</p><p>Not that the kid is the only one in that situation.</p><p>It’s been a bad year - once again - and they all had to take out the highest possible amount of tesserae the Capitol allows. It’s ten for orphans, since they have no family members the count could be based on.</p><p>“Yeah, well, I’ve had five years of maxing out tesserae,”Sinara says. She tries to never dwell on that. Her name is in there so many times… But then, Azale went with only eight slips.“Statistically, you’re much safer, kid.”</p><p>The girl accepts that with a nod, not that she has much of a choice. All she could do is get herself even more worked up than she already is.</p><p>Sinara turns away from her to check whether the matron is ready yet; she has no real words of comfort to offer to the younger kids and would much rather just not think at all until the reaping is over and done with.</p><p>Once the matron gives the other workers and the older teens the sign to head out, Sinara follows after the group of twelve year olds she’s been put in charge of.</p><p>She makes them line up to sign in and leaves them in the twelve section while she heads to the eighteens, furthest from the youngest.</p><p>She stares straight ahead and fights the urge to bite her nails. The childhood habit rears its head every reaping day. She plays with her belt instead, needing to give herself something to do.</p><p>It’s warm, the air sticky and uncomfortable, the other teens standing far too close, shoulders and elbows brushing her, getting worse and worse with every new person filtering into the square.</p><p>She’s glad she only has to do this one last time. She’d be gladder if it was already over.</p><p>The mayor walks on stage with someone she doesn’t recognise but she knows must be their district’s new escort. Flavinia Cassella had made enough of a deal about last year being her last that no one was like to forget.</p><p>The new escort is a man, age impossible to tell both because of the distance and because of the blue paint across his face. It must be the newest fashion, she supposes. The clothes are calmer than she’s come to expect from Capitols. All black, though with a strange shimmer to them. Can’t be pleasant in the heat.</p><p>She focuses, a little gleefully, on his probable discomfort to distract herself from her own.</p><p>It feels justified. He chose to be here, to come take two of their children and offer them up for slaughter. The least the district can give in return is sweat making his expensive clothes stick to his blue skin. She doesn’t have to know fashion to know Capitol clothes could feed half the orphanage with the cost of one shirt.</p><p>The victors take their seats and Mayor Hand steps up to the microphone. Her smile is small and slightly strained. Next to her, the escort’s smile is almost manic. But then, so was Flavinia’s, most days.</p><p>“Welcome,”Hand greets the crowd.“It is my pleasure to introduce you all to our new escort, Kasius Hala.”</p><p>The applause is perfunctory but the Capitol doesn’t seem bothered by this, happily taking the spot at the microphone as the mayor vacates it for him.</p><p>“Welcome, welcome!” It’s upbeat and his accent is thick, all lilting Capitol. His eyes scan the crowd, smile never faltering, not even at the twelves section.“I am ever so delighted to be in your lovely district! Now, let’s pick ourselves a victor, shall we?”</p><p>He’s either deluded or it’s a sick joke.</p><p>Of their three victors, only two are still alive, both decades past their victory. No victor has come out of Three’s reaping ball in quite some time.</p><p>Sinara’s still trying to decide whether he’s an idiot or an asshole when he trillers,“Ladies first!” and pulls out the first name.</p><p>He smoothes the slip out carefully, taking a moment to look at the name and then back at the crowd. Flavinia had grown bored of such antics long ago. Sinara kind of wishes for their old escort back, or at least for the new one to hurry up and spit out the name.</p><p>That is until he actually says the name.</p><p>“Sinara Nux,”Kasius calls out.</p><p>For a moment, she thinks she might faint.</p><p>For a moment, she hopes she has misheard.</p><p>Then she straightens her shoulders and starts walking towards the stage.</p><p>Kasius waves her over to him, clasping her hand in both of his in what barely passes for a handshake and congratulating her. His smile is still very, very bright. Up close, she doesn’t think he’s older than her under the blue make-up, or perhaps its dye. You never know with Capitols. But that applies to his age, too.</p><p>He’s stopped talking. She hopes it hasn’t been for too long.</p><p>She manages to thank him, manages to swallow her horror down, forces herself to think about how his hands are as blue as his face instead of how she will soon be dead. Crying on stage is never good.</p><p>Kasius asks for volunteers. There are none, of course. She doesn't think Three has ever had one. She's sure Flavinia hasn't even bothered asking for volunteers in five years.</p><p>"Well, seems you'll get to keep the honour,"Kasius tells her brightly and again she's left to wonder if it's the Capitol brain rot speaking or if he is mocking her.</p><p>Either way, she glares at him.</p><p>He turns to the boys' reaping ball without awaiting an answer. Not that she would have given one.</p><p>She watches her fellow tribute advance with small steps, as if he’s hoping someone will stop him from climbing onto the stage to join her. He’s fourteen and clearly in the middle of a growth spurt, clothing hanging wrong on his gangly limbs like he hastily had to borrow some from his father.</p><p>His older sister might be in some of her classes, Sinara thinks, but she’s never spoken to the boy before. He’s shaking, his lip wobbling. She looks back onto the crowd as Kasius greets the terrified boy in the same chipper tone he used on her.</p><p>No one volunteers to take Gereon’s spot, either.</p><p>So they get announced as the official District Three tributes of the sixty-sixth annual Hunger Games, are made to shake hands and then are ushered into the Justice Building.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The mayor shows Gereon to one room, Kasius shows Sinara to another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Here, they will be allotted time to say their goodbyes before boarding the train to the Capitol.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara drops onto the couch, picking at the soft material of one of the pillows to keep herself from picking at the skin around her fingernails.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stares down at her lap so she doesn’t have to look at the room. She knows what it looks like. She remembers, even if she’s only been here once before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hadn’t cried while saying goodbye to Azale. She’d pretended she might come back. She’d waited to cry until Aza had been on the train. Now she has to wait to cry until she is on that train, too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wonders if her coffin will be bigger than Aza’s. She’s had four more years to grow taller, after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She closes her eyes against the sting of tears as the door opens. She knows who it will be. She can’t look at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn’t stop Darillion from sitting down next to her and pulling her into his arms. She digs her fingers into the fabric of his shirt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sin,”he says, voice weak and shaky.“You gotta come back, alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She scoffs.“Yeah, sure, that’s gonna happen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulls away far enough to look her in the eyes, his hands on her shoulders.“You have to try. You have to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not saying I won’t try.” She puts one hand on top of his, just briefly. She’s never been touchy feely.“I’m just saying I probably won’t make it back. We both know that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you can make it back,”he insists.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara laughs. If she wouldn’t, she’d cry. The sound comes out wrong.“That’s what we told Aza too, remember?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,”he says. His eyes are shining with tears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wonders if he’s dreamed of that day, over and over, for the last few years. She has. They don’t speak of Azale. They don’t speak of the Games. She swallows hard.“I don’t want you to look, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t ask her what she means. His hold tightens on her shoulders, almost painful.“Sin...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t look,”she insists.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They looked, four years ago. Wide-eyed and horrified and like they had to, like they’d be failing Azale by not watching her die. Like turning around would have made them guilty. Them, not the Capitol, not the girl from Ten who’d killed her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s burned in her mind, the way her eyes went dark, the way her body slumped and fell like a ragdoll. Darillion doesn’t need the image of her like that burned alongside Aza’s death.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I won’t,”he promises. The tears have started to fall.“If it gets to that, I won’t. But you can’t give up, okay? You have to try and make it back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,”she says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s not convinced she’ll have the slightest chance but she’s not ready to go down without a fight, either. She lets Darillion pull her back into a hug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they part, he takes a thin necklace from his pocket and presses it into her hand.“For a token.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She closes her fingers around it and smiles. Then she digs the wristband from her own pocket and hands it to him.“For a keepsake.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It could have been a token, had he been called. She’s carried it to every reaping after Aza’s and it seems he’s done the same thing. The had no token to offer back then. The matron gave Aza a washed-out hair band that might have been purple once.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door opens, the peacekeeper says,“Time’s up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They hesitate for a second, then Sinara offers her cheek and Darillion presses a kiss to it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See you soon,”he says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara nods. He’ll see her on the screens, if nothing else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She watches Darillion go and the next person enter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s the little girl she’d given empty comfort to that morning. It feels like a lifetime ago. She’s still not sure if her name is really Jemma.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi,”the girl says, a bit uncertainly. She takes a deep breath and crosses over to Sinara.“Seventy-four percent of victors were sixteen or older, so your chances are pretty good. You’re also slightly taller than average. Most of the final five usually are on the taller side.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s the same sort of quasi-meaningless babble she gave this morning but the child delivers it earnestly. Somehow, she finds it endearing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s true,”Sinara says, and doesn’t say that last year’s victor was fourteen. She’s not sure if Finnick Odair is tall for his age; he just looked pretty short next to the boys from One and Two.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jemma - she decides to just go with that name - offers her a small smile.“Three could do with another win. We’ve had an average of fifteen years between victors so statistically -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re due another,”Sinara finishes. She feels like she’s checking the younger kid’s homework; she did that for a lot of them in the orphanage. Helped refresh the bases of her own studies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly.” Jemma beams at her as if that settles the matter.“I’ll do a collection at school so we can sponsor you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,”Sinara says. What else should she say? Tell her not to waste what little they can scrounge up?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jemma slips out of the room, luckily without attempting something silly like giving her a hug. She’ll accept them from Darillion but that’s as far as she’ll go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next person to visit her is Ukena, which perhaps shouldn't surprise her. She’s been her teacher since she was eight years old, she runs the after school clubs she attends: both engineering and track. Still Sinara somehow hadn’t thought about Ukena as someone who cared about her. She doesn’t think about herself as someone people care about in general, really.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Ukena comes and takes her hand in hers and reminds her that she can outrun the other tributes, most like, and maybe build something, the way Beetee did. They’ve all learned to construct electrical traps before they were of reaping age.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Here’s what you shouldn’t do or you might get electrocuted,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ukena would say every time before showing them some trick. Necessary safety tips and demonstrations, she’d call them if a peacekeeper came sniffing around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re resourceful,”Ukena says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like the Gamemakers won’t make sure resources will only be had from the Cornucopia and parachutes. Sinara nods anyway. She’d rather risk the bloodbath at the Cornucopia than slowly starve or be found on a Career hunt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last person to come see her is the orphanage’s matron, May. She looks upset but also resigned. Sinara can’t fault her. Orphan kids are always most likely to go. They aren’t more likely to return.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With the goodbyes out of the way, Sinara is taken out of the room and into the car waiting outside. Little Gereon is white as a sheet and shaking, barely fighting back tears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara’s glad that their escort is babbling at the boy because she doesn’t know what to tell him. Her own chances are bleak. The boy’s are even worse. He doesn’t seem particularly comforted by Kasius Hala going on and on about how exciting the Capitol will be for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara’s slowly leaning towards him not being malicious in those comments. She’s not sure whether that might actually be worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A whole gaggle of reporters is waiting at the station and Sinara keeps her face blank of emotion. She ignores the boy’s hiccups next to her, his sobs barely swallowed down. If he’s lucky, he’ll get his neck snapped in the bloodbath. She wonders if she could do it. To spare him a worse death at the hands of the Careers. She thinks she could, probably. It’s harder to imagine to kill to get to win, to get to go home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stands for the cameras as if those unpleasant thoughts weren’t raging inside her until Kasius claps his hands and declares it’s time to go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doors close behind them and the train begins to move.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She knew it was going to be fast but it’s still an odd feeling. She’s never had reason to ride a train before, only select few people ever get to leave the district. Tributes, victors, the occasional engineer, peacekeepers. No one who isn’t officially allowed to do so by the Capitol and they only allow it for very few reasons.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kasius shows her to her quarters, happily chattering on about how it’s all at her disposal, how she can begin enjoying the amenities of the Capitol right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara rolls her eyes at him and he falters, for a split second, but his smile is back so fast and so bright she thinks she might have imagined it. He tells her to be ready for dinner in an hour and then leaves her to it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The room is gigantic. There were at least six of them in a room this size back at the orphanage. Here there is even an own, separate dressing area. The dressers are full of fine clothes, soft and clearly never worn by anyone else before her.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Sinara runs her fingers over them, somewhere between wonder and disgust. The Capitol has more to waste on tributes that will be dead within weeks than on the children that actually live in the districts. She’s not surprised, of course. Yet the splendour around her makes it painfully obvious and painfully real all of a sudden.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She slips into the shower and turns the water hot enough that it almost hurts. She pretends that is why her eyes water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She lowers the temperature to something more pleasant eventually, enjoying the pressure of pipes that aren’t on the verge of breaking. They only have tubs at the orphanage but she’s taken showers in Darillion’s home on a few rare occasions and this is something else entirely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t think she’s ever spent this long washing - and eventually just standing there, enjoying the water and letting it soothe her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The towels are softer than anything she’s ever touched and smell vaguely of flowers. She rubs her hair dry as she heads back to the dressers to pick over the selection, finally landing on simple black trousers, a grey tank top and a black cardigan. The clothes fit well. It’s a strangely foreign feeling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smoothes the shirt out unnecessarily, still itching to bite at her fingernails and having to keep her hands busy. She can’t look like the district rat the Capitol imagines if she wants a chance at sponsors. Scruffy nails won’t do her any favours, as silly as it seems.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luckily, she must have spent even longer in the shower than she thought, because Kasius Hala is knocking at her door. She knows it’s him before he even calls out,“Time for dinner, my dear!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No one but a Capitol could possibly have a peppy knock, she is sure, but he certainly does.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She follows the escort down the corridor to the dining room, doing her best not to stumble. The rocking of the train is still strange to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The dining room is as extravagant as the rooms, the selection of foods far beyond anything she’s ever seen. Gereon sits with Beetee and Wiress. It seems they’ve managed to cheer the boy up a little bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara sits down and the escort sits next to her. She wrinkles her nose but refrains from scooting away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,”Beetee says suddenly. She thinks he must have caught her look of displeasure and is hoping to distract Kasius.“Sinara, I was just telling Gereon: I am his mentor and Wiress is yours, officially, but we do tend to act as more of a team.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds good,”Sinara says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d have preferred Beetee. He sometimes taught extra classes after school and was clearly a genius. Wiress was a bit of a shut in and no one in Three was certain whether she was still entirely sane. But it’s not like she can say that, so she turns her attention to the first course to be served.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dinner passes mostly quietly, Kasius and Beetee exchanging a bit of superficial smalltalk while Wiress seems off in her own world and the tributes stuff themselves. Sinara has never seen food like this. She doesn’t think anyone in the district has, other than the victors and perhaps the mayor and peacekeepers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gereon certainly hasn’t, by the way he carefully sniffs each new dish before tasting it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara doesn’t waste a moment on that, clearing each plate set before her. Going by the bewildered looks Kasius shoots her way and his own plates never being more than half emptied, the dishes apparently aren’t intended to be finished. That explains why there’s so many of them. It doesn’t explain why they dish up so much, though. Sinara’s not about to waste the most delicious food she’s ever tasted - even if she feels a bit queasy by the time dessert rolls around. She finishes the cake anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They head into a different compartment to watch the recap of all reapings. The field is the same as every year: Volunteers from the Career districts, kids called from the other districts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, Sinara thinks she should feel more than she does as she looks at them. But she expected the huge, muscular tributes, she expected the wolfish grins and sly eyes. Just as she expected the horrified faces in the districts that don’t have the luxury of trained volunteers stepping up to take their place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Careers are regarded as Capitol lap dogs but, sandwiched between Career districts the way it is and always fond of strategy, Three can acknowledge that it isn’t the worst idea, to train up children so they can offer themselves. Sick, perhaps. But is it less sick to have children go unprepared, the way the thirteen year old stumbles onto stage in Five, sobbing?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girl called in Four was the same age. She went onto stage without a care, waving at the cameras like it was all really just a game, and hugged the tall, lean girl who stepped up to take her place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s Sinara’s age, that girl, and yet a thousand times more prepared. Sinara wishes someone would have taken her place. She wishes someone would have taken Aza’s, back when she was no older than Gereon and even skinnier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Any thoughts on the competition?”Kasius asks brightly as soon as the boy from Twelve climbs onto stage. Effie Trinket is wearing the same oddly simplistic style as Kasius. Though up close Sinara now knows there’s tiny gemstones on the fabric. She guesses it must be the same for Twelve’s escort.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing out of the ordinary,”Beetee offers when neither tribute responds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara wonders what he expected. Ideas on how to kill them? Bets on which of them will make a good victor?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kasius is still looking at them expectantly. Wiress is scribbling into her notebook, Gereon is biting his nails and not looking up from his feet. Beetee is about to say something when Sinara beats him to it,“Just a whole bunch of more corpses. What damn thoughts should we have about them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He clicks his tongue and purses his lips.“It’s never too early to think about alliances.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara laughs.“Because they’re just queuing up to ally with Three, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not with that attitude,”Kasius snaps. He gets up and smoothes non-existent wrinkles from his shirt.“If you’ll excuse me. I shall retire to bed now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They watch him go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beetee sighs.“Allies do improve your chances. You just have to be careful not to get attached.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get me in with One, then,”Sinara deadpans.“That guy looks like a jerk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gereon says nothing but gets up and leaves. Sinara thinks he might be crying again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sighs, tells the mentors goodnight, and heads to her own room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought of an alliance doesn’t leave her as she slips between the covers. Maybe it really isn’t too early to start planning. She’s gotten a first look at the competition, after all.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sinara falls asleep to thoughts of which tributes might be useful enough to ally with yet not so dangerous she’ll be dead the moment the alliance breaks down.</p>
<p>She wakes up to knocking on her door, the same rhythm Kasius also used the evening before. She groans into her pillow before answering him with a short,“I’m up.”</p>
<p>When Sinara enters the dining car, it’s only the victors at the table. She sits down to join them, raising a questioning eyebrow.</p>
<p>Before either can answer her look, Kasius Hala walks in, a slight edge dulling his cheery behaviour. The smile’s still on, though, just somehow less bright.</p>
<p>“Gereon doesn’t want to come and have breakfast,”he says, uncertainly hovering by the door.</p>
<p>Beetee gets up with a small sigh, waving the escort towards the table.“I’ll speak to him.” </p>
<p>Sinara takes a roll, watches Wiress sorting her fruit salad, watches Kasius sip his black coffee and ignore the food.</p>
<p>She smears her roll with a thick layer of jam and pours herself juice. She looks back to Wiress.“So. When does the mentoring start?”</p>
<p>“In the Capitol,”Wiress says.“Until then, I can only tell you not to fight with your stylist.”</p>
<p>Sinara frowns.“What?”</p>
<p>“You won’t like them or the prep team,”Wiress explains. Not that it really explains much.</p>
<p>Kasius gasps, scandalised.“They’re there to help her! Of course she’ll -”</p>
<p>“Prepping’s not pleasant,”Wiress interrupts, as if he hadn’t even spoken up.“Just let them anyway.”</p>
<p>“Alright,”Sinara says. Maybe Wiress does know what she’s doing, after all. Disliking the Capitol makeover team seems pretty likely, in Sinara’s opinion. But antagonising the stylist probably wouldn't work out in her favour. The chariot rides are the first real impression the tributes will make on the Capitol.</p>
<p>“There’s certainly nothing wrong with a little cleaning up,”Kasius mutters, more to his coffee than to his breakfast companions.</p>
<p>Sinara tilts her head and gives him a fake smile.“Are you saying I need it?”</p>
<p>It’s hard to tell with the blue stuff on his face but she thinks he might be blushing. It’s even harder to tell if the flush is brought about by annoyance.</p>
<p>“I’m sure you’re perfectly groomed by district standards,”he says, not exactly as diplomatically as his smile suggests he thinks he’s being.</p>
<p>“How kind of you.” Sinara lets her fake smile give way to a real smirk, addressing Wiress with her gaze still on Kasius,“I’ll let the stylist do their thing so long as they don’t try to paint me blue.”</p>
<p>Now he’s definitely flushing. It’s strangely welcome to see he’s a proper human being, under all the strange mannerisms and fashion.</p>
<p>He shoots her that same bright smile that she’s starting to suspect is very much not real.“You never know, blue might suit you.” He checks his watch.“We should get on with breakfast. We’ll be arriving soon.”</p>
<p>She doesn’t need him to tell her twice, sampling as many of the dishes as she can manage before the train suddenly pulls into a tunnel. She stuffs the last bite of bacon and eggs into her mouth and ambles over to the window, knowing she’ll get her first glimpse of the Capitol any moment.</p>
<p>Kasius joins her, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement. He’s looking at her, not out of the window.</p>
<p>She shoots him a glare, then a quizzical look when he just keeps watching her.</p>
<p>“I’ve never seen someone from the districts seeing the Capitol,”he says.</p>
<p>“I’m not a zoo animal, I won’t do tricks,”she snaps. She can’t bring herself to step away from the window, though.</p>
<p>“I didn’t mean it like that,”Kasius says, soft and apologetic and somehow with much less of an affected lilt to his accent than usual.</p>
<p>She pretends not to have heard. The tunnel ends and she has to blink against the sudden brightness a few times before she can take in the sight before her.</p>
<p>“Isn’t it magnificent?”Kasius whispers.</p>
<p>There’s a peace offering in that, she thinks, another apology.</p>
<p>She can’t say why she nods instead of telling him to go to hell.</p>
<p>Perhaps because it really is magnificent.</p>
<p>She nervously wets her lips as they draw closer and closer, as she can suddenly make out the people, who are pointing and waving and clearly recognising a tribute train.</p>
<p>“You could wave back,”Kasius suggests. His shoulder brushes hers.</p>
<p>Sinara steps away and spins on her heal, spitting “I said I don’t do tricks.” over her shoulder as she rushes to her room.</p>
<p>It’s not like she’ll have any time to herself there, not with them arriving. But she needed to get away from him. She’s pretty sure there’s a harsh punishment for tributes who punch out escorts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The prepping is indeed very, very unpleasant. She’d theoretically known about waxing. She’d have happily gone on without being subjected to the procedure.</p>
<p>The prep team are chattering on and on and she gets away with the occasional word, so at least it’s not so terrible on that front.</p>
<p>But her skin is prickling unpleasantly and she just wants it all to be over.</p>
<p>“There you go,”says the pink-haired prep a few strips later. Irinia, she reminds herself.“Now we can grease you down.”</p>
<p>Sinara bites her lip to refrain from objections. She’s taken it all without complaint so far. Surely greasing can’t be worse than waxing?</p>
<p>As it turns out, the lotion is the first pleasant thing they subject her to. After an initial burn, it soothes her skin. She even lets out a small sigh of relief, earning her giggles from the preps.</p>
<p>They bring out tweezers to make sure they’ve gotten every last hair. Sinara just lets them inspect her skin, vaguely wondering how the Capitol people can take such offense to something as simple, as natural as body hair when they happily watch children slaughter one another for entertainment.</p>
<p>“You’re ready for Candela, I’d say,”Irinia says. Then she shoots a questioning look to Zylla, a woman with bright green facial tatoos who appears in charge of Irinia and the other prep, Marillion, with the gemstones inlaid in his hands.</p>
<p>Zylla nods, brushing a loose strand of hair behind Sinara’s ear.“You can almost tell that you’re pretty, now.”</p>
<p>“Thank you,”Sinara says, because she doesn’t know what else to say and these people seem so much like squeaky, trained tropical birds that she can’t find it in her to be offended by anything they say.</p>
<p>They head out to collect her stylist, leaving Sinara to fiddle with the discarded robe on the table next to her. She thinks there’s little point in putting it back on, the stylist will probably make her strip again. But she’d still feel better wearing it. She resents feeling so much on display, so vulnerable - and in front of Capitols, of all things.</p>
<p>The stylist saunters in. She’s sporting blue skin, like Kasius, but instead of the black clothes she has on a bright blue dress. It’s slightly jarring against the different shade of her skin.</p>
<p>Sinara tries to remember if she’s seen her before but she never pays much attention to stylists and the blue skin might not have been blue before. Aza’s stylist was a man, she thinks. Candela might be new or a transfer from another district.</p>
<p>The bangles on her arms clank against each other as she waves her hands around.“Hello, Serena, I’m -”</p>
<p>“Sinara,”Sinara corrects automatically before she can even think whether it will count against her with the stylist. Maybe insisting on her actual name is considered fighting here.</p>
<p>Candela blinks at her, fake lashes fluttering.“Pardon?”</p>
<p>“My name is Sinara,”she says. She makes herself smile so it doesn’t look like she’s offended.</p>
<p>“Oh.” Candela laughs, a shrill sound accompanied by more clatter from her jewelry.“Of course it is, yes. As I was saying, I’m Candela, your stylist.”</p>
<p>Sinara doesn’t reply because Candela leaves only a split second of silence before she goes on,“I’m hoping to be bumped up to Four if this year goes well, so thank you for not being hideous. For a district girl.” She wrinkles her nose and tugs at a strand of hair.“Do you always wear it loose?” Again, she doesn’t wait for an answer, gathering Sinara’s hair and yanking it into an unfastened ponytail high on her head.“You have a slender neck. Makes your jaw look less square to show it off. You should keep that in mind.” She drops Sinara’s hair again and steps back.“The factory worker angle has been overdone lately. Nothing wrong with a bit of retro now and again but that’s not going to get me promoted. Spin.”</p>
<p>It takes Sinara a moment to realises it’s an order and Candela nudges her shoulder with an inch long nail. Sinara spins.</p>
<p>“At least you have something like hips,”Candela sniffs, poking at said body part.“That girl last year took her diet a little overboard. She looked like a stick insect.”</p>
<p>Sinara bites her lip hard to keep from pointing out that the skinny tributes are half-starved by circumstance, not by some sort of diet. She’s only relatively well fed because the orphanage makes sure the tesserae rations are put to the best possible use.</p>
<p>Candela purses her lips and glares at Sinara’s mouth.“Stop that.”</p>
<p>She releases her lip from her teeth and waits for whatever complaint the stylist will have next.</p>
<p>Instead, Candela waves her into a sitting room. Sinara pulls on her robe without asking before she follows her stylist. The Capitol woman doesn’t comment, so it must be alright.</p>
<p>They sit down at a low table ringed by couches and Candela orders their lunch with the press of a button. The table opens and it rises up from who knows where. Sinara digs in while Candela goes on and on and on about how the factory worker jumpsuit angle is just so drab and uninspired. The occasional hum of agreement is all Sinara needs to offer.</p>
<p>She’s not surprised when Candela puts her hair in a high ponytail before doing anything else. Then she sections the ponytails off and adds some elaborate twists and braids before spraying some sort of stabilising agent all over it; there’s glittering particles in it, too. They shimmer golden whenever Sinara turns her head and they catch the light.</p>
<p>The outfit she is eventually dressed in is covered in golden bits and pieces, which admittedly give the garment a pretty close resemblance to the central processing units they assemble in the factories.</p>
<p>Sinara doesn’t complain about the golden make-up smeared across her forehead and dabbed onto her lips. It’s different from what the District Three tributes usually wear. She’s not sure the outfit is actually any good. But different might already be enough to get some sponsor's attention…</p>
<p>Candela walks around her a few times to make sure everything is to her satisfaction, making some small tweaks here and there. Then she finally gives a short nod and a smile.</p>
<p>They head to the bottom level of the Remake Center, where the tribute chariots await. Each of them are pulled by four horses. Those of District Three are a light, creamy brown that almost passes for golden.</p>
<p>Gereon is already waiting by the chariot with his own stylist. He, too, is covered in gold but he appears to be wrapped over and over in wires. Those feature in their factories heavily, too. Sinara thinks she got the better end of the stick, anyway. Gereon looks a little like an animal that got itself tangled in a net.</p>
<p>“Hey,”she says. He looks like he could use a friendly face and she supposes she’s the closest thing to that right now.“You good?”</p>
<p>He nods. It isn’t very convincing.</p>
<p>The stylists order them up onto the chariot before she has to think of something helpful to offer the boy. They adjust their positions; it’s almost like they’re just dolls. Sinara’s sure the Capitol views them with about as much compassion, if even that.</p>
<p>And then the opening music starts blaring, the massive doors slide open and the chariots begin to move.</p>
<p>The first two districts are already out and then it’s their turn. Sinara reminds herself of the instructions Candela gave somewhere between meaningless chatter and forces the corners of her lips into a smile. It feels weird, the golden colour on her lips making her want to wipe at them, so the uncomfortable sensation of having a foreign substance on her will go away.</p>
<p>Next to her, Gereon is clutching onto the edge of the chariot with one hand, waving with the other. He looks scared.</p>
<p>Sinara doesn’t think anyone will take note. They’re sandwiched between Two and Four, after all. No one will ignore those favoured districts to check on the tributes from Three. Still, she surveys the crowd with a slight smile, almost more of a smirk. Confident, Candela had said. She hadn’t quite bothered to explain just what that entailed but she had been adamant about the smile. <em> Not so broad, you’re not a horse, </em> she’d snapped when she’d made Sinara practice in the mirror.</p>
<p>It’s a small mercy. Sinara couldn’t hold a broad smile for twenty whole minutes, she is sure of that. A look at one of the huge screens lining the route tells her she looks haughty. It also tells her the cameras spend much more time on the Careers than the rest of them, especially District One. Their tributes are very attractive, she must admit. Though something about the guy’s expression just begs for a fist to the face.</p>
<p>She imagines delivering just that. It keeps her smile going until the finally reach the City Circle. Then it’s just President Snow’s speech and they can retreat to the Training Center.</p>
<p>Sinara steps out of the chariot, relieved to let her smile drop, and offers Gereon a hand as he climbs down. He keeps a hold of her hand even once they are standing on the floor again. She almost yanks her hand away. But he’s Aza’s age, and somehow she can’t bring herself to take away what little comfort it might give him. His hand is clammy.</p>
<p>“That was wonderful,”Kasius exclaims, heading over to them, Beetee and Wiress on his heels. He claps his hands together, beaming.“You looked just lovely.”</p>
<p>“Thank you,”Gereon mumbles.</p>
<p>Sinara says nothing. She’s still peeved at their last interaction.</p>
<p>If Kasius notices, he doesn’t show it.</p>
<p>“Shall we head to our floor?”Beetee suggests.“You can shower and change before dinner. And then there’s the replay of the opening ceremony.”</p>
<p>“Shower sounds great,”Sinara says, scratching at the colour dried to her forehead. It’s starting to itch terribly.“I can’t wait to get that stuff off my face.”</p>
<p>“Gold suits you, though,”Kasius says as they make their way to the elevator.</p>
<p>She gives him a sideways glance.“I’d return the compliment but for all I know you look better without that blue crap.”</p>
<p>It was meant to insult him. Instead he laughs. It’s a nice sound, different from the affected ones she’s heard from him so far.</p>
<p>She frowns and turns to look out the glass wall of the elevator. She pretends she doesn’t see him watching her in the reflection of the glass.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The quarters she’s assigned on their floor are massive and even posher than the ones on the train. The shower comes with more buttons than she knows what to do with. So far, all she thought a shower needed was hot and cold. Apparently there’s also need for scented water, oils, adjusting pressure and who knows how many other things. It’s not like the thing comes with a manual, so she sticks to the buttons that clearly have to do with water temperature and ignores everything else. She just wants the golden stuff off her face and the glitter out of her hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once that is accomplished, she stands in the stream of warm air one of the panels can shoot, letting it dry her. She remains there even after she’s dried off, eyes closed and enjoying the sensation. It’s like a summer wind. Only once her stomach begins to growl does she leave the bathroom to find herself some clothes and then head out into the corridor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kasius is coming her way the moment she slips out of her room.“I was just about to collect you for dinner.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good, I’m starving,”Sinara returns.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s not much point in holding a grudge against her escort, she’s decided. There’s more important things to spend her energy on. Like getting to know as many Capitol dishes as possible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gereon shoots Beetee a questioning look when the attendants offer wine. Sinara has already accepted her glass without hesitation. She can count the times she’s had wine on one hand and she’s eager for some now. It always makes her drowsy. She’s not sure how well she’ll manage to sleep now that she’s in the Capitol and the Games are becoming realer by the second.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can try some, if you’d like,”Beetee answers the unspoken question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Might be the only time you can,”Sinara says before she can stop herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wiress sighs and pushes a glass towards the boy who is now back on the verge of tears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beetee sips his own wine without comment and with a very reproachful look at Sinara.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kasius clicks his tongue.“Really, Sinara! Must you be so glum? That defeatist attitude is not very becoming.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, excuse me for being realistic,”Sinara snaps back.“But let’s play your little game on top of the Hunger Games, sure. Let’s pretend one of us has even the slightest chance at winning. Still leaves one of us dead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kasius’ smile is frozen. It almost looks more like he’s baring his teeth.“All the more reason to enjoy all amenities the Capitol has to offer, I suppose.” Then he turns to the victors with a much more believable smile.“The stylists won’t be joining us tonight. They had a party to attend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a hint of disapproval in his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think we ever had stylists who actually did join us,”Beetee says absently. He’s looking at whatever Wiress was scribbling into her notebook earlier, free hand dipping a bread roll into gravy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kasius purses his lips. Whether his displeasure is about the stylists’ behaviour or Beetee’s table manners is anyone’s guess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just in case it is Beetee’s manners, Sinara picks a bread roll of her own and follows suit. There’s no point in holding a grudge against the escort, sure, but there’s also no reason not to try and annoy him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If it works, he does not comment. Instead, he makes idle smalltalk, soldiering on even though none of them offer him much to work with. It must be a relief for him when they head to the living room to rewatch the replay of the Opening Ceremony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you weren’t too thrilled about the idea of alliances but District One are already sponsor favourites,”Kasius says before any tributes even show up on screen.“It wouldn’t be a bad idea to at least see if they’re open for an alliance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll check with the twins,”Beetee says. He means Cashmere and Gloss Addlington, who won consecutive years before Finnick Odair. They’ll be mentoring a lot, Sinara assumes, just by how much the Capitol adores them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not yet,”Wiress says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.” Beetee gives her a small smile.“We should wait and see how training goes before we try to forge any alliance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, of course,”Kasius says. He’s clearly very eager to get everything right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara vaguely wonders just how young he is under the make-up but gets distracted by the Opening Ceremony beginning again on the television.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not hard to see why the tributes from District One are favoured by the audience already. Dressed in gauzy tunics and their skin covered in silver powder, they look almost ethereal. The girl is a little small for a Career tribute, or maybe it’s just the way the boy towers over her. Whichever the case, her eyes sparkle with something dangerous. She’s beautiful. The boy is just as handsome but it’s in that way where he is far too aware of it, Sinara thinks. He looks smug as he catches a rose thrown by someone in the audience.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara’s eyes drop to the bottom of the screen where the tributes’ names are written in golden letters. Ward and Raina. Would they lower themselves to an alliance with District Three? Would she be able to curry favour with them, to make herself suck up to them to secure supplies in the arena?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s lost in her thoughts, barely registering the tributes from Two and quickly forcing herself to pay attention again. One, Two and Four are almost guaranteed to band together. If she wants in with One - and as of now, that’s a big if, anyway - she’ll have to deal with Two and Four, aswell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She almost jumps when Kasius’ hand brushes against hers as their chariot comes on screen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You looked wonderful,”he tells her quietly. He’d said so before but he’d also addressed Gereon then. Over in his armchair, the boy isn’t included in the compliment now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She accepts it with the slightest smile and a nod, ignoring that there’s a blush creeping up her neck. She doesn’t want to think about that reaction too closely, either. She’s just not used to getting complimented, that’s all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She returns her attention to the screen. Maybe someone with the money to sponsor her thought she looked wonderful, too.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Even with the aid of the wine, Sinara has trouble sleeping that night. The bed is almost too soft, making it impossible for her to forget where she is long enough to drift off. When she can’t take it anymore, she rolls out of bed and presses buttons at random until the darkened window reverts to its normal, see-through state. There’s so many lights in the street that it’s hard to tell but she thinks dawn is breaking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She can’t be faulted too much for being up and about, then. Picking up the clothes that were set out for training by an Avox on Candela’s orders, she gets dressed. Tight black pants, a short-sleeved blue shirt that’s long enough to fall halfway down her thighs and shoes that are surprisingly simple but good for running. Whatever the material is, it encases her feet like a second skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she walks into the dining room, the long board off to the side is still being filled with dishes. Kasius sits at the table, bend over a bunch of loose papers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He startles at her presence, hastily stacking his papers.“I’ll clear the table for you. I didn’t expect anyone up for breakfast at this time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I couldn’t sleep,”she says. She doesn’t know why she offered up that fact, that vulnerability. She quickly adds,“What are you working on?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that she really cares. But it’s better to focus on him than on her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugs, looking sheepish, and mumbles something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She cocks an eyebrow.“What was that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m setting up sponsor contracts,”he repeats, much clearer this time. He’s blushing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She only now notices that, while he’s still blue, the layer of black, white and darker blue that framed his eyes is gone now. It makes him look softer, somehow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her silence makes him chatter on, as if to defend himself.“Of course we don’t actually have any sponsors lined up yet and only the mentors can sign the contracts anyway. I just think it can’t hurt to be properly prepared, don’t you think? Sponsors are ever so important. And I do have some contacts. I realise I’m a little old to get started but -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How old are you, anyway?”Sinara cuts him off. She knows Capitol people use plastic surgery to appear younger but him calling himself old still doesn’t seem right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nineteen,”he says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only a year older than her. She frowns and sits down across from him.“How is that old?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Most escorts start out as part of the prep teams, usually around sixteen or so.” He shrugs, a strangely normal, simple gesture.“I was studying engineering but President Snow offered me the position. I couldn’t exactly say no.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes suddenly widen in terror and his laugh comes out shriller than usual.“I mean, who would be silly enough to turn down such an opportunity?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who indeed,”she says, watching him reorder his papers so he doesn’t have to look at her. His hands are shaking, just a little. So it’s not only the tributes that get no choice in participating in the Games. She files that information away for some unspecified later point in time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If she should ever have the time and energy, maybe she’ll feel sorry for him. For now, she can’t say she’s too taken by his misery. Having to herd around tributes might be less delightful than his studies but it sure still beats being thrown into the arena.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t let me keep you from breakfast,”Kasius says. His voice is the even, cheery tone again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gets up to pour herself some tea. She almost wants to ask more about the way the Capitol is run but from his reaction she can gather one thing that, perhaps, she should have realised by herself already: The Training Center is bugged.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They’ve finished eating by the time Wiress comes in to join them; Sinara is still sipping hot chocolate and Kasius is on his third cup of coffee.</p>
<p>“You’re up early,”Wiress says and then gets her own breakfast without waiting for a response. She sets her plate down and surveys Sinara over a glass of juice.“So. Training. Your approach?”</p>
<p>“You tell me,”Sinara returns. What does she have a mentor for, otherwise?</p>
<p>“Allies?”</p>
<p>“If I can get them.” Sinara takes another mouthful of her drink. The stuff is ridiculously delicious.“The Careers would be best. I’ll need supplies to even stand a chance. The sort sponsors can’t buy.”</p>
<p>Wiress nods.“What can you do?”</p>
<p>“I can build most things. And I’m fast. Best at track and field back home.”</p>
<p>“Good.” She arranges her cheese into shapes on her plate, no longer looking at Sinara.“Learn some things you don’t know yet. Don’t show them you can outrun them. Find an in with the alliance.”</p>
<p>Sinara doesn’t ask how she’s supposed to do that. They’d need to know the other tributes to formulate a strategy. She’ll figure something out once she’s in the training facilities. Not that she’s great at making friends...</p>
<p>“Don’t talk to Gereon while you’re down there,”Kasius puts in.</p>
<p>Sinara shoots him a confused look.</p>
<p>He smiles sadly.“The Careers know how the Capitol wants the Games to play out. If they think you’re attached, they’ll make you -”</p>
<p>He falters, not getting the words out.</p>
<p>She nods. It’s clear what he means. They’d make her kill the boy to prove she has what it takes to join their alliance. She doesn’t want to look too closely at whether or not she’d be willing to do it. She’d like to think she wouldn’t but she doesn’t want to die herself, and that trumps whatever compassion she has.</p>
<p>She holds on to that line of thought when Gereon arrives for breakfast and even more so when they go down to training. He lingers next to her after the trainer gives them the go ahead to try out whatever they like.</p>
<p>“Scram,”Sinara says. She waves a dismissive hand when he doesn’t move.“Take a hike. Go learn to make a fire or something.”</p>
<p>She turns away and strides across the room towards the first station in her path. It ends up being knife throwing, which suits her as well as any station. What suits her less is that three of the Careers are already there: Raina, Ward, and the girl from Two. She tries to remember her name but comes up blank.</p>
<p>They don’t acknowledge her and she doesn’t acknowledge them. She just lets the trainer explain how to hold the knives, how to aim, how to throw.</p>
<p>The woman leaves her to it before long, going to assist the boy from Ten. The station’s popular, it seems.</p>
<p>She gets absorbed in what she’s doing, so focussed she yelps when suddenly there’s a hand on her hip and another on her elbow. She spins around. Ward catches her fist easily.</p>
<p>“Easy there, tiger,”he says with a grin he probably considers charming.“Just thought I’d help you out a little. Adjust your form, you know.”</p>
<p>She yanks her hand free and glowers at him as she takes a few steps back. Maybe now would be a good time to start ingratiating herself to the Career but it’s all she can do to stop herself from trying to hit him again. Or maybe chuck a knife at his stupid face. She’s pretty good at hitting the target by now.</p>
<p>“We’re not supposed to touch other tributes,”she eventually grinds out.</p>
<p>“We’re not supposed to fight.” His eyes trail over her body so slowly she can almost feel the intensity of it burning into her skin.“You’re welcome to touch me, Three. Don’ t worry. I won’t tell.”</p>
<p>She knows he’s just trying to unsettled her. She knows that, and she already hates him. Neither of those things stop the ridiculous blush spreading up her neck and across her face.</p>
<p>She’s saved from replying by an unlikely source.</p>
<p>“This is why I’m not the least bit sad it’s you going into the arena with me,”Raina says, stepping next to Sinara and rolling her eyes at Ward.“Must you always be like this?” She holds up her hand to stop him as he opens his mouth.“Rhetorical question, Ward. Go grab Kara some more, she didn’t seem to mind.”</p>
<p>She jerks her head towards the girl from Two who quickly looks away and pretends she wasn’t watching. Ward shoots Raina a smirk and goes to do as she suggested. Kara lets him adjust her stance, though it was pretty much perfect, as far as Sinara can tell.</p>
<p>“Hello,”Raina says. Her voice has lost its edge, dropped to a too familiar purr.“I’m Raina. And I didn’t catch your name?”</p>
<p>“Sinara,”Sinara says.“From Three.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I’d gathered that.” Of course she has. They have their district numbers on their shirts. Sinara’s cursing herself for making out to be an idiot but Raina’s already going on,“Ward’s a lot stronger than I am, you know. It’ll be difficult to overpower him by myself.”</p>
<p>She lets the words hang between them, implication made only clearer by her raised eyebrow.</p>
<p>“Well, there’s more than physical strength to the Games,”Sinara says carefully. This could be a trick. Tributes are rarely willing to turn on their district partners unless necessary, hoping someone else will do the deed for them. But maybe that’s exactly why it isn’t a trick. Someone has to kill Ward. It might as well be her, she supposes.</p>
<p>“I’m bored with knives,”Raina says. Her smile is as sharp as the blade she tosses aside, right into the middle of the target, without so much as looking.“Let’s go check out traps.”</p>
<p>Sinara nods and falls into step next to her. When she glances up to the elevated stands surrounding the gymnasium, she sees two Gamemakers watching them and whispering.</p>
<p>Any deviation from the formula is welcome to keep the Games fresh. It’s been a while since a Career pack admitted someone from another district in, as far as she can recall.</p>
<p>She lets Raina chatter on as they circle through stations, eventually joined by the boy from Four, Trey. He’s awfully certain of getting sponsors, not because of himself but because of his mentor Finnick Odair, and Sinara can’t say she thinks he’s wrong. His district partner Marla shoots him dirty looks every now and again, clearly envying his luck.</p>
<p>She joins the Careers at their table at lunch when they offer. All the other tributes are dotted around the room, not even making eye contact for the most part.</p>
<p>Sinara would rather find a corner to herself, too. But she wants them for allies and she won’t do anything to jeopardise that.</p>
<p>Kara sits awfully close to Ward. Sinara wonders if either of them is doing any more than just playing the other in preparation of some plan for the arena. Perhaps they’re just trying to enjoy what little time they have left as regular teens. But then maybe they shouldn't have volunteered. She’s the only one at the table not there by choice.</p>
<p>Jonn from Two is quick to point that out, too.</p>
<p>Sinara shrugs and grins.“Doesn’t mean I don’t have what it takes to win.”</p>
<p>It’s apparently just cocky enough that it gets her an appreciative round of laughter.</p>
<p>It’s a relief when the training day is over and she can finally retreat to her district’s level. Even the elevator ride is annoying, Jonn and Ward posturing and shoving each other as Raina rolls her eyes and the other girls giggle.</p>
<p>When Sinara gets off the elevator, it’s all she can do not to let the groan slip out before the doors close. She leans against the wall, taking a moment to herself and to order her thoughts. Gereon arrives on the elevator after her, heading into the dining room without greeting her.</p>
<p>She shrugs it off, starting to head down the corridor to her room when she catches a whiff of the smells coming from the dining room. Dinner is apparently already served.</p>
<p>“You can tell us,”Kasius is coaxing Gereon as she sits down with them.“What’s wrong?”</p>
<p>The boy keeps his arms crossed and glowers.“Why don’t you ask her?”</p>
<p>The two victors and the escort look at Sinara. She shrugs her confusion.</p>
<p>Gereon’s scowl deepens and he adds,“She was the one buddying up to the Careers all day and telling me to piss off.”</p>
<p>“Oh, how wonderful!” Kasius claps his hands excitedly, leaning in to give Sinara a short hug. It’s over before she can even react and shove him away. He beams at her before pursing his lips disapprovingly.“Though I do think the word choice was unrefined and frankly unnecessary.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t say it like that,”Sinara grumbles and pointedly refuses to look at anything other than the food.</p>
<p>She’s had enough stress for one day and she knows this isn’t over.</p>
<p>“But they’re Careers!”Gereon exclaims.“They’re here because they want to be! They’re sick!”</p>
<p>Sinara still doesn’t look up but does glance at the others from the corners of her eyes.</p>
<p>“Now, that’s quite enough,”Kasius says.</p>
<p>His gaze is dancing around the room nervously.</p>
<p>“The Careers have the most supplies,”Beetee points out reasonably.“Joining them is a very sensible strategy.”</p>
<p>“For Capitol lap dogs, maybe,”Gereon spits.</p>
<p>Sinara rolls her eyes at him.“For anyone who’s not too much of a weakling to get in with them and doesn’t think they’re morally superior for taking their death lying down instead of trying to fight it.”</p>
<p>It’s cruel, she knows that. But it’s true too and now it’s already out so she goes back to her food. If the kid wants to spend what little life he has left throwing tantrums, that’s really none of her business - nor her problem.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next day goes pretty much the same. She has lunch with the Career pack. Gereon doesn’t join them for dinner. Beetee is called out to make some fix to a Capitol system he apparently installed and Wiress is having dinner with a woman who has hinted she might consider sponsoring Sinara.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or she might just want to chat about her cats,”Wiress tells Sinara before she leaves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s not sure if it’s supposed to be a joke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It leaves just Kasius and Sinara. She almost suggests she could just go and eat in her room but he’s already pouring her a glass of wine and she accepts it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you mind eating in the living room?”Kasius asks.“Wiress left her notebooks all over the dining room table and I’m not sure if there’s a system.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine,”Sinara says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She expects him to call the Avoxes or set a tray for himself to take to the other room. He does neither so she just follows him curiously. They settle on the couches and Kasius presses a few buttons. The table opens up and their food rises up, the way it did with Candela.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do all tables do that here?”Sinara asks. She’s reminded strangely of a fairytale she heard in childhood about a magical table providing food. Maybe the storyteller got the idea in the Capitol, even if the matron claimed it was an ancient tale.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A lot of them, yes,”Kasius allows.“You can tell which ones. Here, I’ll show you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He carefully shifts the platters of food around the table, pointing at a spot now revealed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She has to lean in close to make it out. Less than half the size of her smallest fingernail and almost the same colour as the table, there is the slightest bump. She brushes a finger against it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kasius takes her wrist to guide her finger from the bump along a seam that’s completely invisible to the eye, running around the bump in a sort of spiral.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s too fascinated to remember to shake his hand off.“How do you know this stuff?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Engineering student,”he reminds her.“I was working with the team that redid the pods.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pulls back abruptly.“The stuff they use to set mutts on tributes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yes, that too.” He looks sort of embarrassed, at least.“They’re used for plenty of things.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One of those things just happens to be mutts,”Sinara says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe she’s a hypocrite for taking offense when she so readily brushed off Gereon’s criticism of her choice to try and get into the Career pack. But she likes to think it’s different. Kasius’ life didn’t depend on him building the best possible mutt delivery system.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,”he says softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He does not offer any justification. He does not sound as if he doesn’t see what the problem is either, though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She should head to her room, she thinks, and doesn’t get up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So how does the escort gig compare to engineering?”she asks instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s certainly more glamorous,”Kasius says with a small grin.“Though I’m still getting the hang of things so I’ll have to get back to you on it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She chuckles.“You have a few days for that, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll see about that.” He brushes his fingers against her.“I wasn’t kidding about picking a victor, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your very first tribute being a victor would certainly be glamorous,”she returns.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leaves her hand right where it is, their pinkies touching.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She should absolutely head to her room. She should absolutely not be smiling at a Capitol man, even less an escort.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Undoubtedly so.” He shifts closer, just a little. It might be entirely by coincident.“So do try not to ruin this for me, alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The twinkle in his eyes takes any edge from the words. She can’t help herself but laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She springs back as if caught in the act of something horrible when Beetee wanders into the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment, simply joining them with a,“Do you mind?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course not,”Kasius says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara doesn’t look at him. Somehow she’s sure he’s blushing, anyway. She certainly is. Even if it’s utterly ridiculous.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The last day of training is only a half day; they will be called in for their individual sessions with the Gamemakers after eating lunch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara tries her best to sound casual when she asks,“So am I in or not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s pleased with how bored her voice comes out. Almost as if she just asked someone to pass her the salt or something equally mundane.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trey and Kara look to Ward for a reply; Jonn shoots them an annoyed glance for it. Marla feigns indifference. Raina smiles at Sinara, all sharp and yet deceptively sweet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s see your training score first,”Ward drawls out after a long moment of pretending to think about it. He looks around the table to make sure he has everyone’s attention.“We’ll let you get away with a six, since you’re just from Three.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They laugh. All of them but Raina. Sinara raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. Her palms are sweaty but they needn’t know that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ward raises an eyebrow in a mirror of hers, somehow mockingly.“And then perform in the bloodbath. Or at least manage to survive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He preens under the renewed laughter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara titters along with them, because it’ll be easier that way, and catches Raina’s eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They might have to fight to the death at some point themselves but she can see it written clearly on the other girl’s face: Ward will go down first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wonders just how sick it is that the notion makes her feel better. But then, if she hasn’t much life left to live, shouldn’t she enjoy every bit of it?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If nothing else, she thinks there’s enough victors like Ward already. They probably all sauntered into the Gamemaker session overly confident, the way he does when he’s called in. The boy from One always goes first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara watches the minutes tick by as tribute after tribute is taken into the other room, as the rest of them get quieter and quieter. The scores are important. They can decide if you have any chance at sponsors and thus can decide if you have any chance of survival.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara doesn’t dare ask Raina whether she’ll get her into the Career pack somehow if she doesn't get that six. She doubts it. Raina wants her in to have an ally within the alliance, someone to help her and then to kill. Sinara’s not stupid enough to think there is anything else to it. No matter how easily those doe eyes could convince her otherwise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sooner than she’d like and yet after far too long of a wait, Gereon is called up, meaning she will be next.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He glares at her as he walks by.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What do you want?, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she wants to shout at him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Do you think I should be your ally, so we can both die? Do you think they’ll let us both win if only I’m nice to you?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s such a preposterous idea she can’t help but snort. Two victors, now there’s a novel idea. Maybe she’ll suggest it to the Gamemakers in her session, they always like surprising the Capitol.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe they’ll declare her too insane to go into the arena if she starts spouting such nonsense. But then, her mentor is rumoured not to be in possession of all her marbles, either, so they might just write her off as another loon from Three.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she finally is called in, she does the obstacle course and does not speak at all, only to thank them when she is dismissed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is hard to say if she managed to make any sort of impression. But they’ve watched her the last few days, or at least watched the Career pack she hung around with, and none of the trainers had all too many complaints about her form.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A six should be possible, shouldn’t it?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those outside the Career districts mostly average around a five. She doesn’t think she’s done worse than average, though maybe Ward’s bloated ego rubbed off on her and she’s overestimating herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The others are waiting in the sitting room when she makes it back, Kasius and Beetee idly chatting. Wiress is once again absorbed in her notebooks. Gereon is eating a dish she doesn’t know. It seems to consist of skewering bits of fruit and dipping it into melted chocolate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There you are,”Wiress says, glancing up from her scribbling. Her pen doesn’t stop moving.“How was it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looks back to her notes before Sinara has even sat down. She assumes her mentor is listening. Even if not, Beetee and Kasius are looking at her expectantly. Gereon is pretending not to listen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think it was alright,”she offers cautiously.“I need a six. They said I could join with a six, provided I make it through the initial bloodbath.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t need to specify who she means. The only people worth allying with are the Careers, after all. The boy from Nine and both from Seven look like they could do some damage, sure, but they don’t have the advantage of the pack.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very good,”Beetee says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kasius smiles at her, too.“I’m sure you did just fine.” He glances to her fellow tribute, who looks a little like he might start crying again.“Here, try some chocolate fondue.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hands her a tiny fork to spear the fruits chunks with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara doesn’t need to be told twice. She can count the times she’s had chocolate in her life on one hand. It is a very rare treat. It is heavenly in combination with the fruit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She bites back any comment about the amenities offered to dead kids walking here in the Capitol. She does her best to just enjoy the flavours bursting on her tongue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once finished with the fondue, she goes for a shower and a nap, Kasius assuring her he will wake her up in time for dinner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hasn’t slept well the night before, too nervous to do so, too plagued by nightmares, by thoughts of what the arena might be like. By the image of Darillion’s face, rigid with horror and then slack with despair when Azale fell. She’d curled up into a ball and pulled the covers over her head as if it might block out her ruminations about who might hold his hand when she died, if that person’s knuckles would turn as white as hers had back then. It hadn’t helped and sleep had eluded her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She is exhausted now, physically and emotionally. Sinking onto her bed, still wrapped in a towel, she drifts off to sleep, uneasy as it is.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She must have slept deeper than she thought possible because she wakes to Kasius opening the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I knocked,”he says and looks about a foot higher than her face. His cheeks are flushed enough to make it through the blue.“I didn’t want you to miss dinner.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hastily checks but the towel is still covering her enough that she’s not indecent. Maybe he’s really that embarrassed about the horrible manners of wandering into her room without awaiting a response to his knocking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” She sits up and stretches.“I’ll be right out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nods, looks at her for just a fraction of a second, and hurries out of the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara gets dressed and follows after him into the dining room. She’s not very hungry but any padding she can put on won’t hurt in the Hunger Games. She’s seen enough tributes starve to death in her years of mandatory viewing to know that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All too soon, it is time for the scores to be announced on television.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara’s hands are clammy, her heart beating nearly painfully hard against her ribs. Her whole strategy to stand a chance in the games relies on her getting in with the Career pack. Outrunning everyone is no use if she can’t use the distance put between them to set up a trap, and she can’t set up a trap without the necessary tools. Tools she’ll need to get from the Cornucopia.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Since Beetee’s games, even something like simple wire is no longer far from the mouth of the horn. With the Careers as her enemies from day one, she wouldn’t get the things she needs for traps. And she doesn’t kid herself into thinking she could beat even one of them in combat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Districts One and Two get the expected high scores in the eight-to-ten range, Gereon scores a four. But scores really only matter if they’re very good, so it’s not like it worsened his chances.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Sinara doesn’t have time to waste on thinking about his score, anyway, not when her face is on screen next. She’s so relieved she’s actually shaking when the seven flashes in front of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well done,”Wiress says softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Congratulations!”Kasius exclaims, throwing his arms around her and pulling her in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She so stunned she just lets him hug her, after a moment even relaxing into it and bringing a hand up against his back. She’d thought Darillion’s hug back in the Justice Building was the last one of her life, not expecting an escort to be in the habit of hugging tributes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Kasius is nice and warm and smells a little bit of flowers, and she indulges for another second before gently pulling away. He’s beaming at her as if her score really mattered to him. She can’t help herself but smile back.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next day is completely booked for the preparations for their interview. Style with Kasius, substance with the mentors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara’s glad she’s scheduled to go with Kasius first. She has an inclination that living up to his ideas of proper presentation will be a lot harder than whatever Wiress will have to tell her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That feeling is proven right almost instantly, when he makes her change out of her comfortable clothes and into a gown and high heels.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want me to go into the arena with a sprained ankle?”Sinara grumbles as she fastens the clasp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want you to not fall on stage and lose you all sponsors before the Games have even started.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He offers her his hand and, after scowling at him just to make a point, she accepts and stands up straight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, now walk,”he says and tries to pull his hand away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She keeps her fingers locked around his. She really is afraid of falling in these death traps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re the same height like this,”she says as she takes a tiny step without releasing his hand, feeling like she’s a toddler just learning to walk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kasius doesn’t comment on that but just smiles at her.“So we are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes a few steps backwards and she follows him across the room, trying not to wobble too much in the unfamiliar heels.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think you can try on your own now?”he asks after a little while. It’s not condescending, just an honest question. So she gives him an honest answer in the form of a shrug. He chuckles.“I’ll catch you if you fall, promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She rolls her eyes but can’t quite bite back the smile. She lets go of him and continues up and down the room, Kasius first hovering close by and then just watching her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Try to concentrate less,”he says.“You’re walking sort of unnaturally right now. Stiff, really. Your hips aren’t moving the way they normally do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She throws him a quick look. She has no idea what her hips do while walking; it’s not like she ever paid attention to it. Apparently, Kasius did, though. She’s not sure how to feel about that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She attempts to walk with her hips more, even if she doesn’t know what he means. Asking him to tell her about what he noticed about the way she walks is so ridiculous she can’t bring herself to do it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She flounders and his hand is suddenly on her elbow to steady her. Then it lowers to her hip.“May I?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara nods, beginning to walk again as he lightly nudges her forward with his other hand against her lower back. Then he has a hand on either side of her hips, gently guiding her into swaying them as she walks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I certainly don’t usually do that,”she says snippishly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d know if she was wiggling around that much, surely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t stop walking. It feels more like dancing than walking, really. Though that might be because of his hands on her hips, his warmth radiating through the fabric of her dress.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s more noticeable with the heels,”Kasius allows.“But you do always walk that way, I assure you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lets go of her and she finishes the round around the room by herself. She can feel his eyes on her the whole way. Somehow, she wants his hands back on her, too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A silly notion that she pushes away the second it enters her mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Better?”she asks when she comes to a halt in front of Kasius again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, much,”he says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So I won’t make a fool of myself on stage, then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not with walking, at least. But we have another three hours of coaching.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>After lunch, Sinara settles in for her session with Wiress. Beetee, very apologetic about it, is once again called away to make some improvements to a Capitol network.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wiress digs through her bag full of notebooks and pulls one out, opening it to the middle.“Aloof and confident.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For my approach?”Sinara clarifies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It could just as well be a criticism, she supposes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Wiress nods and hands her the notebook.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pages are covered in sentences, some only half finished but all clearly intended as things she might say in the interview. Things that will make her more interesting to the audience in general and sponsors in particular.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want a mock interview?”Wiress asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara’s not sure whether her mentor would make it through one. She looks at the collection of conversation ideas for her time with Caesar, then shakes her head.“There’s more than enough to go on here. What about later, in the arena?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wiress relaxes. It’s odd; Sinara hadn’t even noticed she was on edge until the tension melts away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Figure out the second,”Wiress says.“When the alliance breaks down, that person will most likely make the move. Watch and see. Then run in time. Maybe you’ll get lucky and they kill each other. If someone lives, you need a trap.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But they’ll expect that from me,”Sinara says. She’s been telling herself she just needs the materials for a good trap the whole time but won’t the Careers make sure she can’t secret anything away? At least Raina is definitely smart enough to know she has to watch out for that, and not so arrogant she’s likely to forget.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And everyone expects them to be brutes.” Wiress shrugs.“You’ll have to find a way to trick them into letting you get the chance to trap them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara raises a hand to her mouth unthinkingly before quickly lowering it again. The preps will be back in the morning and she doesn’t want to be chastised for chewing on her nails.“But you can’t tell me how because we don’t know the arena.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wiress nods her agreement.“There’s too many possibilities. We can only come up with some general ideas.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pushes an empty notebook towards Sinara. They spend the next few hours conjuring up scenario after scenario as well as the traps to go with them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe seeing what could face her, what could go wrong should unnerve Sinara. Somehow, she finds the exercise oddly comforting instead.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The preps have no complaints about Sinara’s nails but they do tut an awful lot about the shadows under her eyes, as if she didn’t get a proper night’s sleep just to spite them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She just lets them primp her as they see fit and keeps her thoughts to herself. They’re such vapid yet chirpy things, she finds herself reluctant to be rude to them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d have less qualms about mouthing off to Candela, really, but the dress the stylist presents her with is lovely and warrants no sulking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is a dark blue, flowing like waves around her body, her shoulders bare. On top of it she gets a sort of corset to wear, interwoven strands of what might be actual gold forming diamond shapes. It clearly is supposed to keep with the electronics theme from the chariot ride, though Sinara can’t even guess what the thing is supposed to imitate. She doesn’t ask. The matching hairnet is a little too heavy to be comfortable but the shoes aren’t as high as the ones Kasius made her practice walking in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Candela makes some last corrections to her make-up and then nudges Sinara to the mirror. The stylist’s pleased grin is nearly blinding.“You look simply marvelous! I made an actual pretty girl out of you, can you believe it? I am sure to get that promotion next year now!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Congratulations, I’m so happy for you,”Sinara says drily but Candela accepts her sarcasm as sincerity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that Sinara cares one way or the other.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>In the interviews, the girl tribute precedes the boy tribute from each district, meaning Raina is the first to step onto stage with Caesar Flickerman. As every year, the man has picked a new colour for his hair and make-up, nothing else changed about him. He has chosen gold this year.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It instantly makes Sinara feel more confident in her attire and makes it easier to ignore the slight headache beginning to gather in her temples. The headpiece seems to be getting heavier and heavier with every passing second.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before she knows it, all four tributes from One and Two have finished their interview and it’s her turn to leave the safety of the row of chairs they’re all sitting in and go up to Caesar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s only a few steps over to him but she makes sure to sway her hips the way Kasius insisted she should. The fabric of her dress swings around her legs and it must look good, by Candela’s smug look over in the stylist section.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara shakes Caesar’s proffered hand and reminds herself of all the things scrawled into Wiress’ notebook, the stuff she failed to fall asleep to while reading and rereading last night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, Sinara,”he says with an air of confidentiality that is so utterly at odds with the setting she wants to laugh.“I have to say, and I’m sure our friends in the audience agree, that I’m quite intrigued by that seven you scored.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Been a while since someone from Three actually did well, hasn’t it?”Sinara quips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a few titters in the audience.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We haven’t seen a lot of scores over five from your district lately, no,”Caesar says, much more diplomatically.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll see a lot of things you haven’t in a while.” Sinara tilts her head and smirks.“Or ever, for that matter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wonders briefly what it says about her that the cocky persona comes to her so very easily. She almost believes her own words, even though she of course has no clue what she might show - or fail to - in the Games.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caesar leans in closer.“Would you care to share, Sinara?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pretends to consider that for a moment, then shakes her head.“I wouldn’t want to spoil all the fun by giving too much away, Caesar. You understand, I’m sure?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, of course.” He chuckles wryly.“But maybe you can at least give us some hints?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They banter back and forth in that vein until her buzzer sounds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She feels pretty pleased with herself when she sits back down, even more so when she catches sight of her face on the big screen briefly. She looks sufficiently bored with the whole experience.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment her alliance with the Careers is revealed, she’s sure there will be at least a few people willing to sponsor her. Now she can only hope that those people are really, really rich.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She does her best to pay attention to the tributes interviewed after her, hoping she might glean something about their strategies from what they say to Caesar, but her golden headpiece is making her head hurt worse and worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time the boy from District Six steps up for his interview, she is almost entirely zoned out. There’ll be recaps later, she tells herself. She’ll pay attention then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first thing she does when she gets out the elevator on Three’s floor is drop the stupid golden thing aside carelessly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kasius, just stepping out of the other car, lets out a scandalised gasp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It hurts my head,”Sinara says defensively.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He picks the headpiece up with pursed lips and sets it on the little table by the elevator, waving Sinara into the living area.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take a seat on the sofa,”he says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She does as he says, expecting him to join her, maybe to have something to tell her about her reception among the Capitol audience.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead he steps behind the sofa and puts his hands on either side of her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She jerks away; she turns to raise her eyebrows at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kasius just takes her shoulders, pushes her back into the seat properly, and brings his hands back to her head.“I know a thing or two about the side effects of uncomfortable fashion.” His forefingers press against her temples, his thumbs just below her ears.“Though you looked absolutely stunning so a bit of discomfort ought to be considered a small price to pay, really.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She opens her mouth to make a snide remark. What comes out instead is a moan as he starts rubbing firm circles against her skin, the headache easing almost instantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She kicks her shoes off and tucks her feet under her, leaning into his touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He has very soft hands. It’s nice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hands slide lower after a while, massaging the tension from her shoulders, too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She thinks perhaps she should protest. Letting him get rid of the headache for her was one thing. This feels far less appropriate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it also feels good and by all reasonable odds she has so few good things still coming in her life, so likely to end soon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So she allows herself to just relish in his touch and listen to him chatter on about how well she’s done so far, all the way until Beetee calls from the next room to remind them that dinner is served.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,”Sinara says, getting up and stretching, finally remembering to also rid herself of the golden corset.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,”he returns.“Did it help at all?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It helped a lot,”she says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t just mean her sore muscles. He can’t know that, of course. Somehow, she thinks he does, anyway. Or maybe she just wants to feel understood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Either way, before she can think too much about it, she brushes a quick kiss onto his cheek and hurries past him into the dining room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes too long to follow, almost like he was frozen in shock for a few seconds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t look at her during dinner. When she finally manages to catch his eye as they are waiting for the recaps of the interviews to start, he blushes brightly. She gives him a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps Darillion won’t be the only one to mourn her when she dies.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sinara is tossing and turning, unable to switch off her thoughts long enough to get even a wink of sleep. Finally she gets out of bed and slips on a robe to head out of her room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She has half a mind to find some wine or at least some warm milk with honey; anything that might help her drift off. The Games are drawing nearer by the second and she needs this last night of rest, the last bit of sleep where she doesn’t have to wonder if she’ll even wake up again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s not far down the corridor when she sees the thin strip of light under Kasius’ door. Clearly she’s not the only one still awake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She walks in without knocking and pulls the door closed behind herself again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He startles and drops the shirt he was about to put on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She lets herself look for a second before bringing her eyes up to meet his.“So you’re not all blue, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It sounds light and teasing. She’s a little surprised she can sound anything but terrified with the Games looming so close.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not a huge fan of full body dyes. Bad for your pores, really,”Kasius says. The colour goes just past his collar bones and halfway to his elbows. Only what his clothes don’t usually cover. As if thinking along the same lines, he hastily pulls his shirt on.“Is something wrong? Do you need an Avox?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” She shrugs.“I just couldn’t sleep, that’s all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,”he says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks sad. He looks worried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He plasters the bright smile back onto his face quickly.“Should I get you a sleeping pill? They really do wonders.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She probably should just take it. She does need the sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, she steps closer towards him, undoing the knot holding her robe closed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She needs sleep. She wants the comfort of another person. She can hardly ask him to just hold her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes drop to her slightly sheer nightgown. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. It’s the first time she sees him at an utter loss for words. She grins, placing a hand on his chest and nudging him towards his bed. She slides the other hand under his shirt, caressing his stomach. His skin is warm against her palm. She wants more of that warmth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sinara,”he says, as if it’s the only word he can remember. He sits down automatically as his legs hit the bed. His hands go to her hips to steady her as she straddles him. His eyes are wide and darker than usual.“What are you doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She barely knows what she’s doing herself, really. Trying to connect with a sympathetic human. Trying to feel something other than the near paralysing fear that has kept her awake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Being young and free, even if she is only one of those things in truth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She cocks her head to the side and gives him a smirk.“Enjoying everything the Capitol has to offer?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a joke and it’s a question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kiss she presses to his lips is a question, too. He answers it by responding enthusiastically, pulling her closer, one hand tangling in her hair. A soft sigh escapes her, her eyes flutter shut and she finally stops thinking, and just feels. The world is just Kasius and his soft lips and the warmth radiating off of him; the world is him and her, and their wandering hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They sink onto the bed as the kisses grow more demanding. Somehow, he manages to keep the whole thing tender even as her nails scrape against his skin, just lightly, but enough to make him gasp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smiles against his skin as she trails kisses along his jaw and down his throat, fingers trailing down his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He suddenly catches her wrists and she draws back enough to look him in the eyes, a silent question in the tilt of her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He licks his lips, takes a deep breath.“I’ve never - I haven’t -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t get the words out, very clearly embarrassed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” She doesn’t know how to respond to that, mainly because she didn’t think otherwise. Perhaps that’s just a district mentality, though. Contraception isn’t readily available and no one wants to go into the Reaping with a baby at home. Capitol teens have neither worry. Hell, even the tributes get a shot, or at least that’s what Irinia said it was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She raises a hand to his cheek and he leans into the touch.“I haven’t, either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiles at her, his hands stroking up her sides.“You haven’t?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” She drops a kiss onto his temple, another on his cheek, another at the corner of his mouth.“Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure we can figure it out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He laughs and draws her in for a proper kiss.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>When she’s sprawled across his chest, sweat cooling on their skin and his fingers drawing patterns across her body, she goes to sleep easily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re awoken a few hours later to Candela’s annoyed voice, her knock only perfunctory before she flings Kasius’ door open.“The girl’s gone and Wiress is being no help, have you - ah.” Her face is impossible to read. Sinara blinks at her sleepily, pulling the covers tighter around herself. Candela sighs.“Five minutes, young lady.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And she sweeps from the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Young lady,”Sinara repeats mockingly, putting on her best imitation of a Capitol accent. It’s all she can do to distract herself from her sudden embarrassment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What seemed like a great idea to calm her racing mind last night - or perhaps just to get a moment with another human who means her well before being thrown into an arena with twenty three people who will do no such thing - seems more rash than anything else in the light of a new day. She’s acutely aware of being naked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is not how our accent sounds,”Kasius says. He looks torn between scowling and laughing. But there’s sadness in his eyes, too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very much is, actually.” She leans in to press a quick kiss to his lips, barely a peck.“Stop making that face. I thought you were so confident about having picked a victor?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, it’s important he believes in her. Maybe because she finds it harder and harder to believe in herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,”he says softly, taking her hand in his.“I’ll just miss you, that’s all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t sound terribly convinced. If anything, he sounds like he’s about to start crying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara forces herself to smile.“Then I better win quickly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He raises her hand to his lips and kisses her knuckles.“You better.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They sit in silence for a few moments that stretch on forever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then the door is opened just enough for an arm to reach into the room and fling some clothing in the vague direction of the bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,”Sinara says,“that’ll be Candela’s way of telling me my five minutes are up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She slips out of bed, picks up the simple shift and slips it on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kasius is at her side, chewing on his lip nervously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Make sure to get Wiress to the sponsor meetings,”Sinara says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t think her mentor is actually so out of it that she’s likely to forget but she doesn’t know what else to tell him. Goodbye seems too pessimistic. And anyway, she barely knows him. The night they shared does not change that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will,”he promises, and then he’s kissing her until Candela pounds on the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara straightens her shoulders and heads out, not turning back to look at him.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kasius is both glad for the victors’ silence and annoyed by it.</p>
<p>When he knew he couldn’t hide away any longer, he left his quarters fully expecting them to tear him to shreds for his utterly inappropriate behaviour, half expecting a Gamemaker there to chastise him, or worse. Instead, neither of them even commented.</p>
<p>So the lack of reprimand is a small comfort but the heavy silence leaves him all alone with his racing mind.</p>
<p>He is fairly certain he has never been as stressed as he is at this very moment, which is slightly concerning, since not yet three months ago his father passed away under those unfortunate, not quite suspicious circumstances the inner circle of the president has slowly become accustomed to. And then Snow himself had offered him the escort position.</p>
<p>Kasius had always watched his step, not following his father and brother into politics, not making the wrong sort of friends, not drawing much attention to himself at all. Yes, he had very closely watched his every move - yet somehow the president had still decided that he, too, needed to watch for missteps.</p>
<p>Maybe - probably - he was not of enough importance to be personally spied on; just getting into the Games business ensured that the media did all of Snow’s intelligence work for him. Where he went, when, with whom… it’s been over half the tabloids since his appointment was announced.</p>
<p>Still, following Beetee and Wiress out of the car and onto the red carpet leading into the Games Headquarters is worse. Because in less than an hour, the gong will sound and Sinara will be thrown into the bloodbath.</p>
<p>Feelings are a weakness, Father had loved to say, often to mock his youngest son for being the soft person he was.</p>
<p>He wondered what he’d have to say over his son starting to fall for a district girl - a tribute, of all things.</p>
<p>There was some satisfaction in knowing Father would never get to make his usual vile comments about Sinara. He was dead and buried, and good riddance.</p>
<p>Though he could’ve died without whatever it was that had made Snow turn his eye even to the son that was not disinherited only because of the scandal it might have caused, in Kasius’ opinion. His father truly never had made his life any easier.</p>
<p>He smiles and waves at the fans lining the red carpet, giving autographs and letting them take picture up until the District Four car pulls up behind them and everyone starts screaming Finnick Odair’s name.</p>
<p>Kasius slips inside with the District Three victors, both even more happy to be away from the comotion than Kasius himself is.</p>
<p>The peacekeepers at the entrance sign them in and then they head to the soundstage for the pre-Games interviews. Similar to the interviews with the tributes the night before, every mentor gets only a few minutes with Caesar to sell their tribute to the audience a little bit more.</p>
<p>Kasius wishes Sinara had a mentor like Cashmere, who is playing Raina up and surely charming every sponsor that is anywhere near a screen at that moment. Wiress, meanwhile, looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. Which is better than it might have been, since it at least means she knows where she is.</p>
<p>The previous escort, Flavinia Cassella, had warned him the victor wasn’t quite there during his orientation. It really wasn’t all that bad, he thought. It wasn’t like Varca from Six, whose Morphling addiction was spread over every gossip rag the year before. Wiress’ absences can be passed off as a brain that just works too fast for the rest of them to follow.</p>
<p>He certainly only understands half of the things scribbled in the notebooks she leaves all around the District Three quarters in the Training Center. It stands to reason that she’s much more advanced in her studies than he managed to get before Snow’s friendly words and cold eyes changed his career path.</p>
<p>“She’s very clever,”Wiress tells Caesar, or at least some spot over Caesar’s shoulder.“A lot of things can be turned into weapons when you have the brains to do it.”</p>
<p>“As your fellow victor Beetee and yourself have proved before,”Caesar agress.</p>
<p>Kasius vaguely remembered Wiress’ Games but still watched the old tapes of both District Three mentors before coming to work with them. The electrical trap Beete had built was brilliant, no doubt. Wiress had less to work with. The pulley system with the swinging weapons she came up with worked just as well, though. Except she had had to account for the height differences of the remaining tributes, and in the end none of their death had been clean. She’d hid, covering her ears and singing, as they bled out.</p>
<p>Kasius tries not to think about how her eyes had been clear and focussed in her tribute interviews so many years ago, and how glassy and far away they were now.</p>
<p>That won’t be Sinara. And even if it somehow was, it won’t matter.</p>
<p>As long as she survives, that’s enough. That’s all he can worry about right now.</p>
<p>Not if she’ll be traumatised by the experience, not if she’ll lose a limb like Chaff from Eleven, not if he’s forbidden from being with her by virtue of their birth places. Certainly not if it even meant anything at all to her. Worrying about that would be silly and terribly selfish.</p>
<p>It’s easier than thinking about the possibility of watching her die, so he replays the way she kissed him in his mind and picks apart every word she said.</p>
<p>Until he can no longer distract himself because they are in the mentor’s lounge where they are all expected to wait out the bloodbath; the platforms slowly rise and the tributes stand in the arena as the countdown begins.</p>
<p>Sinara stands on her plate with her shoulders straight and her mouth set in a thin line. Three plates over stands Jonn from Two, the other Career tributes are on the other side of the Cornucopia.</p>
<p>Kasius makes sure his face remains impassive to the panic rising inside his chest, feigning excitement about the first Games he is allowed to witness as part of a district’s team. The cameras are everywhere and the teams’ reactions are sure to be broadcasted, especially if one of their tributes goes down.</p>
<p>Dies, he mentally corrects himself. The tributes are send there to die. He’s always known that, of course. It’s only really sunk in when he took to the stage in Three to call the names. Especially once Gereon started crying.</p>
<p>In a futile attempt to distract himself from that line of thought, Kasius instead surveys the arena. Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith will do a bit on the arena once the bloodbath is over and the action for the day is done, of course. But there is no harm in taking stock, perhaps already deciding first sponsor gifts to put on the list of needs.</p>
<p>There's sparse wooded areas and stretches of high grass; old, rundown structures are dotted all over. It takes Kasius a moment to recognise what they are in their state but then it hits him: The arena is a long abandoned amusement park, from well before the dark days, probably even from before the cataclysms.</p>
<p>The only water he sees is in one of the rides but it looks fresh, like it was poured into the pool in preparation for the Games, which it probably was. He wonders if it’s the only source of drinking water other than the bottled water offered at the Cornucopia. If so, the Games will be quick, with tributes dying of thirst.</p>
<p>The countdown to the start of the Games reaches ten and Kasius’ gaze snaps back to Sinara’s monitor. The mentors all have an individual monitor for their tribute; Wiress has set it down on the table in front of them for now. They’ll retire with it to the separate rooms offered to the mentors later, when they are no longer expected to be available for the cameras to capture their every reaction.</p>
<p>He reminds himself to keep his reactions in line with the image he wants to project to the rest of Panem as the gong sounds and Sinara springs off her plate.</p>
<p>He can't stop the gasp from escaping him as another tribute almost barrels into her; Sinara rams her elbow into his face without breaking stride, reaching the Cornucopia at the same time as the girl from Four. Marla, he reminds himself.</p>
<p>There's a split second where they just stare at each other and Kasius half thinks the Career pack didn't mean their offer but then Marla yanks free a spear from the pile and almost playfully chucks it over to Sinara who catches it easily.</p>
<p>Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman are talking over each other in excitement, questioning if they are really seeing the Career alliance allowing in another district.</p>
<p>"No tridents, sorry,"Sinara tells Trey as he, too, reaches them.</p>
<p>And then their head start is used up and the Games begin in truth.</p>
<p>Kasius barely even dares to breathe, his eyes fixed on the monitor as if something might go wrong if he were to look away. He's biting the inside of his cheek, the metallic taste of blood soon filling his mouth, his fingers digging into the fabric of the sofa to keep them from shaking.</p>
<p>But Sinara is moving fast, defending the stash together with Jonn, warding off any tribute desperate enough to try that hard for supplies as the rest of the Career pack picks the tributes off before they even make it so far. In a way, she's relatively safe, Kasius thinks.</p>
<p>It does nothing to calm him.</p>
<p>This is what the people in the districts must feel like watching the Games. He wonders who is in the same position as him back in Three. He knows from her file that Sinara has no living family. He didn't think to ask her about friends.</p>
<p>He didn’t think to ask her much of anything, really. He gave her token to the review board to be cleared, though. Maybe that counts for something.</p>
<p>Maybe suggesting the alliance counts for more, because while she is out of breath and has blood on her face and flinches when the first cannon sounds, she is still alive and the bloodbath is over.</p>
<p>Wiress reaches over to briefly pat his hand and he gives her a smile. He hopes it doesn’t look as fragile as it feels.</p>
<p>Enobaria Sevina walks over to them, tilting her head towards the rest of the Career mentors.“Four’s hosting this year. Are you coming?”</p>
<p>Beetee and Wiress get up to follow her and after a moment of hesitation Kasius does, too. He’s not entirely sure if escorts are supposed to come along but no one sends him away and Valentinia from Two is hanging of Brutus’ arm as he heads towards the mentors’ room, so it ought to be fine.</p>
<p>He doesn’t remember poor little Gereon until he notices Beetee is no longer carrying his monitor.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sinara takes a deep breath, trying to go along with the casual atmosphere the Careers are projecting - Kara and Marla counting the cannon blasts cheerily, Ward and Jonn picking over the supply pile and chucking cans of soda to the rest of them, Raina wiping her hands clean and inspecting her nails. Trey is sulking over the lack of tridents.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eight!”the girls call out. No further cannon follows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A third of their number is gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara catches the can Ward throws her and flinches as she catches sight of her own hand. There’s blood on it. Of course there’s blood on it, yet somehow seeing it…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Something wrong?”Kara says. It sounds a little gleeful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara shrugs and shoots her a grin.“This is cherry. Cherry soda’s gross.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here, I’ll trade you for mine,”Jonn says, crossing over to her and throwing an arm around her shoulder as he offers his can.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She has no choice but to take it, really.“See, now orange is a proper soda flavour.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She takes a deep drink and then ducks out from under his arm casually.“Shouldn’t we check if they managed to get something before the hovercrafts come collect the corpses?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t hurt,”Raina says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara really rather wouldn’t go look at the dead kids but it’s the only thing she could think of to get away from the others for a bit right then. And maybe it really is a good idea. Whatever they have on them when they die is lifted out of the arena with them. If there’s only one of a certain item, it’ll be gone, and the rarer the item the more valuable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They spread out to check on the dead kids; Sinara is holding on to her can of soda because it’s the only thing available to steady her hands. She wants to bite her nails badly but with the blood under her nails she finds it easy not to give in to the urge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy from Eight has a small coil of wire on him - probably not enough to be of any use but she slips it into her pocket anyway - and two bottles of water she returns to the stash at the Cornucopia. Ward and Kara are hanging out there instead of helping, being utterly obnoxious about it. Sinara goes to continue checking for supplies. The hovercrafts will want to collect the fallen soon. And anyway, it beats watching Kara making eyes at Ward.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wants to take that assessment back seconds later when she turns over the corpse to get the backpack out from under it and finds herself staring down at Gereon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no,”she says, so softly she barely hears herself. It’s stupid, of course. She knew he had no chance. And if she wants to win, it’s not like he could have, anyway. But he looks even younger like this, if not for the eyes staring into the sky, unseeing yet accusing. She pulls his jacket closed to cover the gaping wound in his abdomen. Then she carefully slides his eyelids shut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She straightens up and turns away from the boy, beyond her or anyone’s help. At least it was quick, she thinks. At least she wasn’t the one to do it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are the wet wipes?”she asks when she reaches the Cornucopia again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blood on her hands needs to go. She wants to claw her skin off just looking at it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trey hands her the wipes and she carefully cleans the blood away. She’s not even sure whose it is. In a way, that makes it worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It feels callous, ending a life and not even knowing the name of the person. But she’ll find out who it was if she wins - and if she doesn’t, then maybe it really doesn’t matter at all. Maybe she just injured them. Maybe they’re cursing her for not making it quick. Maybe that doesn’t matter, either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Twenty-three dead kids, who cares which of them killed which of them?</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Kasius is exhausted in ways he did not know it was possible to be exhausted. Caesar Flickerman dragged him out for an interview; with Wiress not the most interesting to speak in front of the cameras and Beetee not being Sinara’s mentor, apparently the escort is the next best thing. After that, he’s off to speak to a few sponsors that have reached out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>None of the really rich people, sadly, but still wealthy enough that they might make a difference at some point.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he’s back to the mentors’ room, making idle smalltalk with the Addligton twins and Finnick Odair as if they aren’t the most famous people in the country.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, up close, it is suddenly painfully obvious to him that Four’s victor is really just a child still, four years younger than Kasius and glancing at Mags for reassurance every now and again. It’s his first year, too, and Kasius sympathises.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Capitol is difficult to navigate but he has had nineteen years of getting used to it, though sometimes even that doesn’t feel enough. Finnick had the few days after his victory and then the Victory Tour. It can’t be easy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then, it can’t possibly be harder than what he faced the year before - what Sinara is facing now. She’s trudging through the arena now with most of the Career pack, in search of other tributes. Jonn and Raina stayed behind to guard the supplies after a good deal of arguing. Jonn and Ward will get in to it sooner or later, Kasius can tell as much from years of watching the Games. It’s Raina they should be worried about. She’s already proved herself a schemer by recruiting Sinara into the pack.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kasius hopes the three will somehow finish off each other in their powerplay and leave Sinara to win, but that is probably too optimistic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what can she do?”Mags asks Wiress.“Marla didn’t really say.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wiress chuckles and does not offer an answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really now, Mags?”Beetee chastises softly, goodnaturedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t blame me for trying,”Mags says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You got your boy back last year, let someone else have a go,”Terra Hayden says. Enobaria is mentoring Two’s girl this year but Terra followed them into the room even without a tribute of her own, much like Beetee did. The official mentors might be the ones to sign the sponsor deals but the districts tend to share the workload among all of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as well, since Enobaria has been gone for some appointment or other for hours now, since just after the bloodbath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t aware there’s a turn system,”Wiress says.“If so, I think we’ve been skipped a few times.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They laugh together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The victors are a rather strange bunch, Kasius already thinks. It’s not just those from Three being eccentric geniuses as he suspected at first. He can’t imagine Beetee having much in common with Terra “Terror” Hayden and yet they act like old friends; it does not feel feigned, either. Kasius prides himself on having an eye for the falsities that are so frequent in his social circles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then again, he’d never have imagined being on a first name basis with all these victors, even less after only minutes of knowing them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d called Terra ‘Miss Hayden’ and she had laughed uproariously; it was oddly difficult to reconcile her easy going attitude with the Games that had made him hide behind an armchair around a decade ago. His brother had mocked him viciously but it had barely registered against Terra’s ruthlessness. She had earned her nickname with good reason.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, she’s just another person who got caught up in the Games.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On screen, their gang of tributes is closing in on a pair of other tributes, though neither of them know that yet. Claudius Templesmith is happily chattering on about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kasius excuses himself from the young victors to sit by Wiress’ side instead. She reaches over to squeeze his fingers, just for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stares at the screen with baited breath.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Sinara had hoped they’d be done for the day after the bloodbath but the dead haven’t even been announced yet and they’re already on the hunt for more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She regrets not volunteering to stay behind to guard the supplies but in the moment, it had seemed too obvious, too likely to remind them all she didn’t belong, so she hadn’t. And now she’s striding around the arena with a bunch of other teens who are acting like they’re on their way to a party. Not that Sinara has been to very many of those.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They joke around, not making an effort to be subtle about their presence. They’re trained like that, Sinara knows that. It doesn’t stop her from wondering whether they’ve completely lost their minds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just because they are the ones hunting doesn’t mean they can’t be ambushed. But maybe they’re just confident in their ability to fight off any attack that might come. She can only hope that they’re wrong about that eventually, but right until she is the one doing the ambushing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you hear that?”Ward suddenly asks and takes off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara heard nothing, just Marla’s chattering.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But she follows the others as they break into a run. She can keep up, easy. She’s reasonably sure she could outrun them, even. But she keeps to the back of the group. Because making it to the Cornucopia first gave enough away - and because she hopes whatever - whoever? - they’re running for might be gone by the time she catches up with Ward. Or at least dealt with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A cannon sounds, so suddenly she can’t help but flinch. Someone, then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few yards later she sees the crumpled figure on the ground. The pack is still moving, though. She hears Ward call something but can’t make out the words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then they all come to a stop, a girl trapped between them and some sort of steel structure. The girl turns, starts to climb, screams as Ward yanks on her ankle and sends her crashing to the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara wants to close her eyes. She keeps them wide open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara stills Ward’s movement. He scowls at her but she’s already talking, light and teasing,“Let someone else have a go, okay?” And then, before Sinara quite understands, Kara’s shoving her towards the sobbing girl on the ground.“Go on, Three. Let’s see what you can do. Not much to it, really. Ward did all the heavy lifting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She bats her eyelashes at the boy from One and Sinara knows she can’t say no. She knows she can’t make a run for it, not yet. She knows this is what she signed up for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She raises her spear; the girl before her scoots back against the metal in a pitiful attempt to get away from her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Careers are watching Sinara, matching smirks on all their faces. Kara raises a challenging eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sinara’s good at engineering. She’s good at building things. She’s terrible at biology. The cannon does not sound. She can’t get the spear free again. The girl’s eyes are so, so wide. She isn’t even screaming, her mouth hanging open in a silent plea. Sinara hopes there’s no one back in her district watching. She’s older than Aza, at least.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not terrible, I guess,”Kara taunts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ward pulls the spear back for her.“A little too low.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He guides her hands on the weapon, the way he tried to in training. She doesn’t shrug him off this time. He puts most of the force into it, his calloused hands covering hers. The cannon sounds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looks up at Ward so she doesn’t have to look at the girl. She doesn’t even know her district number. She doesn’t bat her eyelashes the way Kara did but she does make herself smile.“Thanks. The training dummies had much more give.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ward laughs, and she hates him, and she hates that she laughs too even more. She has to, she thinks, because she’s part of the alliance. Darillion probably already regrets rooting for her. She wonders, briefly, if Kasius is disgusted with himself, now, for letting her sneak into his bed, or if he’s pleased. The Capitol likes their Careers. Perhaps he wants her more this way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She steps out of Ward’s reach, shakes the thoughts off. Kara is glaring at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Back to camp?”Marla suggests.“I could do with some food.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m pretty hungry,”Sinara says. She isn’t but she wants to get away from the girl. Away from Kara's calculating looks and Ward's approving hand on her shoulder.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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